Selfish Bird
by baichan
Summary: You are a selfish bird aren't you?


You are a selfish bird aren't you? Look at you, all orange and feathery, you're not even a real person anymore. You have become a nothing more than a game construct, coding and programming. There's even a built in set of instructions, although you don't buy into the packaging that is an enigma wrapped in a mystery with a giant fucking question mark as a bow. You fight the impelling to make your hints complicated.

You are however compelled to help Dave. You are his sprite afterall. Davesprite.

(It's ironic isn't it?)

However his current problem, issue, whatever, isn't something that's actually a part of the game. It's not an imp that he can't take on his own, or help with the gates and portals and directions. No, this is _personal. _Yet you still feel compelled to help.

He stares at John behind his shades and you know exactly how he feels.

"He's not going to know how you feel about him if you just stare at him."

Shit, why did you say that? Why did you say _anything?_

He looks over at you.

"Don't look at me like I'm stupid."

"Dude -"

"Although I think it would be better if you just got over him."

He scowls at you and turns away.

"Hey, Egderp!"

You sigh.

You are a selfish stupid bird. Dave had, in part listened to you. Like when he was mulling over movie choices and was examining codes for flowers.

("He's a guy not a lady."

Grunts and scowls, but he didn't alchemize roses which would have been the worst possible choice anyway.)

However he refused to listen to your multiple bids that he just drop it. Like really, you _do_ know what you're talking about.

And really it burns a little, makes you preen with the tiniest fraction of anger when he slips an arm around John's shoulder or when he keeps smiling and smiling and doting on the kid because he's not _listening _to you.

"Are you really sure you want to go through with this?"

He groans and snaps his head to look at you. His eyes are a blazing red behind his shades. That's another thing that you've lost, another thing that makes you _not _Dave Strider.

"Why are you so against this, dude? You've been on my ass since this started and it's not helping."

You try to settle your ruffling feathers, "I just think he probably doesn't like you like that, actually I'm sure he has the ever living hits for someone else."

He grunts and turns away.

"I still have to try," he says, "So just stop. It's not helping."

You shut up after that.

They're lying on the couch and you hover in the doorway. Being a sprite means your feet, that you don't have, don't touch the ground. You also don't breath.

You are as quiet as mouse in a fucking synagogue with an angry rabbi cat on the prowl ready to devour you at the slightest squeak.

Okay, wow no, that metaphor really got away from you like the shittiest shit stain - and you really need to stop, like right now.

They're watching Con Air and Dave has one arm slung across John's shoulder. He is watching John staring at the screen like it's the sun and he was blind man seeing it for the first time.

Well, blind_er_.

Nicholas Cage is reuniting with his daughter and wife and John's eyes are wide and might be watering. His face is turning a pinkish color.

God he is such a princess.

Dave removes his arm and your body goes rigid as he grabs John's hand tight and squeezes.

John looks over.

Dave surges forward and their lips meet.

You feel sick, your shoulders are heavy and your stomach is an iron ball. You want to look away, you want to sink into a pile of orange ecto goo, you want to be Dave Strider.

Unfortunately none of those options are currently available in your functioning abilities so instead you watch as Dave moans and goes to wrap his arms around John.

Then -

John pushes Dave away and John looks so confused and shocked and maybe a little bit guilty or angry like he's betrayed someone or like he might punch Dave.

You feel giddy and completely okay with that.

John mumbles something incoherent that just sounds like Dave and then he slips up and off the couch he sees you floating there in the shadows and his eyes are wide. He looks apologetic; he looks like he's gonna cry; he looks so, so sorry and scared like his whole world is crashing around him only there is no game, no redos, like this is a doomed timeline and the meteors are raining down and there will be no last minute saviours.

He says, "Dave."

You go to him, your wings ruffle in their slightly spectral way. Your arms enclose around him and your extra non human, feathered appendages shelter the two of you, creating a wall from the rest of the world. For a second you forget that your not Dave Strider.

"It's okay," you say.

"I love you."

Despite your wings the rest of the world still exists and no, you're not Dave Strider. Dave Strider is standing, half-on, half-off the couch. His glasses are askew and his red eyes _do _hold betrayal and heartbreak and millions of other fractured and confused emotions.

You are a selfish, selfish bird.

"I love you too, John."


End file.
